


Decisions

by Sinistretoile



Series: Partners [11]
Category: British Actor RPF, Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Decisions, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fucking, Gratuitous Smut, Intense, Moving In Together, Playful Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinistretoile/pseuds/Sinistretoile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London seems to hold its breath. The crime king and queen need to make hefty decisions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decisions

Thomas stared out the window, his chin in his hand. The fire crackled in the fireplace behind him. The silence of the manor house became overwhelming this late at night. He could have gone to bed hours ago, but with Amelia out on the town, the bed wasn’t the same without her. In the silence of the night, he heard the Rover’s engine and its abrupt end. The front door opened and closed, followed by a succession of clicks as the locks were engaged and the electronic beep as she armed the alarm system.  
The clunk of her heels approached. She closed the door to the office behind her. He didn’t turn around. Instead, he watched her reflection in the window. He raised an eyebrow as she peeled the snug sweater off and dropped it to the floor. She reached behind and unclasped her bra, dropping it in a pile on the desk as she walked around it. Only when she stood in front of him, severing the reflective connection did he look up at her.  
His right ankle slid off his left knee, and he spread his legs. Amelia stepped into him. With a weary sigh, he wrapped his arms around her torso and pressed his face into her belly. She smelled of sweat and whiskey, honey and vanilla and amber. He drew his tongue up a line, tasting her flesh. His hands dropped to her ass, kneading deeply, then continued down the back of her thighs to her knees. He pulled her into his lap.  
Amelia sat astride him in the big chair. His mouth left a trail of open mouth kisses and bites up her sternum and over each breast. His cock began to awaken and tent out the pajama bottoms. She twisted her hands in his hair, bending back to give him more access. His palms pressed flat to her shoulders as his mouth continued its ascent cover her collarbone, where she moaned deliciously, and up her neck. She closed her eyes and sighed, pressing her thighs together as best she could. He moved to her ear, licking and sucking with a touch of teeth.  
“Oh god…”  
“Yes, ma reine…” He pulled her back by her messy twisted up hair and looked her in the eyes. “Did you have fun, darling?”  
“I did.”  
“No one gave you any trouble.” She shook her head. Of course, no one gave them trouble. Her two best girlfriends had accompanied her, as well as a veritable flank of guards. He kissed her like he was drowning and she was air, the anxious knot in his belly loosening now that he had her in his arms. She whimpered and pulled his hair, arching her body to his. “Let’s go to bed. I have a drunken queen I need to make scream before the sun rises.” Thomas gave her denim clad ass a hard swat. She squeaked then bit the side of his mouth with a playful growl.  
He jumped up, making her jump as well. She squeaked and ran for the door. He slammed her against it and ravaged her mouth, his hands touching every inch of bare skin. Her hands fought his off even as her body arched into him and she returned his kiss with fervor. She managed to twist away from him and turn the handle. He grinned, giving her a head start.  
Amelia hopped as she pulled the high heels off by the heels. He ran at her with growl. She screamed in glee and threw the shoes in the air, sprinting barefoot for the stairs. They thundered up the first flight of stairs. At the top, he caught her around the waist and pressed his front to her back, his hands gliding up her belly to capture the globes of her breasts. She pushed her ass into his stiffening cock, feeling the hard ridge of it through the tight denim. He bit her shoulder then breathed into her ear. She moaned and reached back to grab his hips.  
Thomas grunted then turned her around. He wanted, no he needed, to kiss her, to drink her in. She broke from him again and ran for the bedroom. He began unbuttoning his pajama top as he stalked slowly after her. She stood at the foot of the bed, wriggling the rest of the way out of the jeans. He tossed his shirt to the side.  
Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth opened to scream before he tackled her to the bed. She giggled, breathless and whiskey drunk as he kissed her neck and moved to her collarbone, scraping his teeth along her trigger spot until her giggles became moans. He reached down between her legs to rub her pussy through the satin and tulle that covered it. He kissed his way down her chest, giving her breasts more attention. He took her nipple and a good mouthful of her flesh into his mouth. He sucked hard until she gasped then repeated it with her other breast.  
Amelia writhed on the bed, rubbing her thigh along his fully hard cock. “Darling, you’re so wet. I’m going to slide right in.”  
“Yes, mon chevalier…” He shifted between her thighs, tugging the pajama bottoms down. His feet struggled with them until they were off completely. He settled over, cocking his hips to rub the length of his shaft against her cunt, coating it with her wetness. She spread her legs more in invitation and he took it. Her back arched as he filled her, stretching her. She raked her nails down his shoulders and back. He hissed, pulling out to the tip then slamming back into her. She raked her nails down his flesh again.  
“Fuck!” He kissed her savagely, using more teeth than tongue. Each thrust was out to the tip and back in hard, bringing her hips up off the bed. Amelia clamped her legs and rolled them over onto his back. Not missing a beat, he bent his knees and locked his arms around her shoulders. His hips were flurry and her moans became louder, a keen of spiraling pleasure. She reached out and white knuckled the headboard. Her breasts rubbed against his chest as they bounced. He wasn’t just laying back and enjoying the ride tonight. He wanted to drive. And drive he did, his cock throbbed and tightened. He could feel the pressure building. “Rub your clit, lovey. Cum for me.”  
Amelia snaked a hand between them and rubbed her clit. Her body twisted, making him groan and cuss. He shook as he held out until she shuddered and shouted. He gave a last volley with his hips before he stiffened then shuddered. They lay panting in each other’s arms before she climbed off him and sat on the edge of the bed. He stretched out as she disappeared into the bathroom to clean up. When she emerged, her breath smelled like mint and whiskey, and she pulled his pajama shirt around her shoulders, only buttoning every other button starting with the third. He’d pulled his bottoms back on and had turned down the bed. She hopped in and curled next to him.  
“G’night, ma reine.”  
She looked up at him, tenderly returning the kiss he placed on her lips. “G’night, mon chevalier.”

Loud, thumping dance music drifted up the hallway. Thomas couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the elevator doors slid open. He nodded to the guards at the elevator then the guards at the door to the penthouse. He opened the door and winced at the volume. Most of the furniture had been covered with white sheets. The walls and shelves were bare. Boxes were stacked and precisely labelled.  
He found Amelia in the kitchen. Marcus was happily wrapping stemware. “Ah, Thomas! So nice of you to join us. I was just telling Amelia it’ll be refreshing to have new stemware. Your grandfather wouldn’t let me replace the ones that broke through your adolescence. And your bride to be has marvelous taste!”  
“She does, doesn’t she?” He grinned at her like a cat spotting a bird.  
“Oh god, Thomas, lose the cheek.” She smacked his arm. He and Marcus laughed. “Take off your jacket and help.”  
“I can’t, lovey.”  
“What? You said you’d help me pack. It was your idea to sell the penthouse and move Mick and Sophie into the townhouse. I’m not packing up both residents with Marcus alone to help. I have a business to run as well AND a wedding to plan.”  
“I know and I’m sorry. With Mick on leave, I have to take the brown bag to the Jaguar.”  
“Oh for fucks sake, today?”  
He cupped her face and tilted her head back. “I promise I’ll be back before sunset and we’ll pack all night.”  
“Yes, pack, mister. Not. Fuck.”  
“Surely, you won’t mind a little tumble.” He raised his eyebrow. Marcus cleared his throat, uncomfortably embarrassed. He wasn’t used to his employers being so open and frank. Thomas and Belle had kept the intimate side of their marriage private from the staff.  
“Alright, but we’re staying here tonight. I’m not loading up the lorry until we’ve got this all sorted.”  
“Whatever you say, lovey.” He kissed her tenderly, smoothing her cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you, ma reine.”  
“I love you, mon chevalier. And do be careful. Eddie’s going?”  
“Yes, Eddie and a couple boys from the club. They needed work since Murderer's Row is closed for repairs.” He plucked at his cuffs and she knew he was upset. Any mention of the club and he became visibly upset.  
She ducked her head to catch his eye. “Be careful.”  
“I will.” He kissed her one more time before leaving her to her work.

Amelia sat curled on the couch, her laptop on the arm. She sipped her tea then scrolled down. This whole wedding thing was getting ridiculous. They hadn’t even set a date yet and it was already becoming more than she wanted to bear. She thought of hiring a wedding planner, but then she’d have to vet them and make sure they were trustworthy and not shit.  
She smiled as she smelt his cologne ahead of him. He wrapped his arms around her over the back of the couch. She looked up at him and smiled. “Off without a hitch.”  
“Liar, meeting the Jaguar never goes off without a hitch.”  
“Alright then, nothing more than usual.” He leaned down and kissed her. She closed the laptop and reached up to play with his hair. When they broke, he nuzzled her nose with his. “Did you get much done?”  
“Kitchen is all packed. Marcus took the food stuffs out to the manor.”  
“Good, so it’s just us.”  
“Yes…”  
“Good...” He practically purred. He reached down and grabbed her breasts as his tongue invaded her mouth. She pressed her fingers into his scalp, sighing into his mouth. “…I have a present. An early wedding gift from the Jaguar.”  
“But we haven’t even set a date yet.”  
“He wanted to be the first.” Thomas kicked off his shoes and climbed over the couch, taking off his jacket as he stood on the cushion. Amelia looked up at him, smiling. God, she loved this man. He accepted her for what she was and who she was. He dropped to sit cross-legged next to her, holding out a thick envelope that he’d produced from the jacket. “What is it?”  
“Well, open it.”  
She could tell he already had as she plucked it from his fingers. Her gaze flicked to his face as she untucked the flap of the envelope. “Airline tickets and cash.”  
“Two open airline tickets and about ten grand.”  
“That’s an awfully generous wedding gift.”  
“Agreed, but he said you weren’t the planning kind.”  
“He’s right. I’m thinking about hiring a wedding planner. This shit is bananas. You have to think over everything and make back up plans.”  
“But, ma reine, you do that every day.”  
“Yes but that’s business. That’s high crime. This is status and social climbing, politics and bullocks.” She tossed a bridal magazine on the coffee table, disgusted with the whole thing.  
“What are you saying?”  
“I’m saying why can’t we elope?” She turned to him. “Why can’t we say fuck it all and hop on a plan for Fiji or Tahiti or Jamaica and go swim and drink and fuck for two weeks.”  
“Lovey, if that’s what you want to do, we can do that. All you had to do was say.”  
“Well, I’m saying. I’m tired of the guest list that ate the West End. Every time I think I’ve got it figured, I worry about accidentally offending someone because we didn’t invite them and it’s a slight. Bloody fucking politics.”  
“Amelia, relax. You want to elope. We’ll elope. We’ll throw a real gasser of a party and invite everyone we’ve ever known in our life when we get back, all sun burnt and fuck sore.”  
“Fantastic!” She threw her arms around him and knocked him onto his back. They laughed happily for a moment. “But there’s something we have to do before we leave London.”  
“I know, darling. Did you have something in mind?”  
She grinned a purely wicked grin. “I do." They didn’t get any packing accomplished. Just sex and plotting.


End file.
